Father, Son, Husband
by full0fgrace
Summary: Twenty five years have passed since tragedy struck the King's family. The members of the family tell how they are coping. But a new tragedy strikes. A story about Aragorn's children and grandchildren. Needs to be edited and hopefully will be eventually
1. Chapter 1

Father 

My sister and I were born into the Telcontar line of Kings. My Grandfather is King Elessar, the founder of our line. My uncle Eldarion is Crown Prince and I am his heir. I love my Grandfather and Uncle. They've been my father figures since the day I was born. My mother never had a brother and was not experienced in dealing with young boys. So it was they that spanked me as a child for pulling Arthoniel's hair. It was they that forbid me from going to my own birthday party for fighting. And I love them for it.

My mother is an incredible woman. She has raised two twins with all the love of two parents. She has fought for our honor with the vigor of a lioness. Despite her timid nature I have seen her yell down Council members when they dare suggest some indignity toward her two children. I have seen her grit her teeth and sew up my wounds from battle. But I have seen her go to bed crying. Aye, many times it has been because of some fault of mine or Arthoniel's. But there have been days—rare though they may be—that we have been perfect angels and she will cry late into the night. She thinks that we don't know. But we've heard it every night.

My sister is even more timid than my mother, if possible. She is much like our mother in attitude and personality. Ai, she is a beauty though. She takes after our Grandmother's mother, as did our father. Her long blond curls are a rarity here in Gondor. Her high cheekbones and sparkling blue eyes have attracted much attention from the members of my sex. When we were younger I beat them up for it. But many—be it male or female—do not see the beauty of her heart. They see a means to get closer to the King. She is the only eligible maiden of our line and because of it she lacks many true companions. Because of being only siblings and also our status as direct in line for the throne we have long been each other's best friend. She has helped me through many a depressed night and has quelled many a fight before I lay a hand on the offender. I bless Eru for my sister every day. I pray that she does the same for her troublesome brother.

But my father, oh what a father, I have never laid my eyes on him. Indeed, he does not even know of my existence. He never learnt of my mother's conception. It is because of him that a one hundred and twenty four year old man was asked to become a father again and raise his son's children. It is he that causes my mother to cry in the night though he has been gone these twenty five years. Oh, I have done my sonly duties. The boys my age quickly learnt that to call him traitor was to know my fist. But they are right. That man I call father betrayed his father, King, and brother, Crown Prince. He betrayed my mother, Lady. He betrayed my sister, Princess. And he betrayed me. If he e'er steps foot on my home country, my sword might find its place in his gut.

Prince Dafydd, heir to the Crown Prince


	2. Chapter 2

Son

Forty nine years ago I bore my second child. Oh, he was perfect. He had my mother's golden hair and curling locks. His eyes were blue and cheekbones high. Were it not for his normal ears one might have thought him a proper wood elf. His father and I were thrilled at our blessings. Just thirteen years ago we had been longing for our marriage and here we were with two perfect sons. Each a jewel to behold. Oh the ears of Eru were blessed that night with our grateful worship.

Where did I go wrong? What did I do that caused my son to fall? What hateful word did I say that made him think that his best course was murder? Aye, he failed. But does that make it any worse to the wife and mother of the intended victims, the mother of the murderer? Alas my son. Oh forgive your mother her wrong. I tried my best. If only you were here to tell me what I might have done to fix your bent and broken soul.

I know what they say. They say that a mother takes these things personally. That she thinks each child's fault her own. Aye, that is what they say. That is truth. But when they say that I could have done nothing, bah, that is a lie. I would have died to save my son this failing.

My son, my son, oh child of my womb, take care tonight. Where are you, oh my offspring? Does Eru hear my cries for you or have you joined his arms? If only you knew the pain that aches through this mother's heart because of your foolish actions.

Queen Arwen Undomiel Telcontar


	3. Chapter 3

Husband

I remember the day we met. I was eighteen and you had just turned thirty. The entire royal family of Dol Amroth, as well as the royal family of Rohan and the Steward's family, were traveling to Minas Tirith to celebrate the defeat of Harad twenty years earlier. I remember that from the instant we rode into the seventh level of the Shining City your eyes never left me. I remember that from that moment until we were safely home a fortnight later I wore a perpetual blush. You were so attentive. I swear—though they both deny it—our fathers had agreed on my dowry and wedding arrangements.

Our meetings afterwards were infrequent, as such it took us a year till we were officially engaged. After a long betrothal, Theodwyn and Eldarion, and you and I were married in a double wedding. It was the happiest day of my life. The next year was spent in much bliss for both us and the country. I have memories that I have replayed thousands of times you coming home late in much joy telling me the country was headed for better times. I wondered what you meant. I remember you growing surlier toward your father and brother. You tried to hide it. But you could not hide it from me.

Then it happened. I started feeling sick and you encouraged me to go to the healer. I did. I was pregnant. Oh the joy I knew that hour. Did you know? You studied under the best healers in the land. You knew I my cycle better than I know it. Did you know?

The joy ended that hour. I came home to the Citadel and you weren't in our quarters. I found your mother. She told me through tears what had transpired while I was gone. What you had planned since before our marriage.

A week later you were gone.

If you had known that you would be a father would it have influenced your decisions? If you knew that your son would harbor aggression and bitterness from you actions, would you have done it? If you knew that your daughter hides her face in shame and flushes red at the mention of your name, would you have done it? If you knew…

Protect yourself this night. I pray for you. You are still my husband. Do you know I'm faithful? Do you know I love you still?

Princess Eruanna, wife of Anarion of Gondor


	4. Chapter 4

I thought I might inform those of you who read this previously what wsa going on. I accidentaly submited Chapters, 1, 2, and 3 as Chapter 1 the first time around. I fixed it today and resubmited them as three chapters. Well, Here's Chapter 4.

I'm going on vacation tomorrow and I won't be home until next week so I don't know when I'll post the next Chapter. But I hope you enjoy this.

Disclaimer: How dare you insinuate that I, full0fgrace, need a disclaimer! Of course I own LotR! Tolkein, the no good theif, stole the manuscript form me and published it years before I was born! That is why I am redused to writing fanfiction for my own story:)

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Tragedy

Just six months ago we were a fairly happy family. My brother, My uncle, and I were going to the southern No Man's Land between Gondor and Harad. Grandfather was not allowed to go for he is nearing one-hundred and fiftieth birthday. My Grandfather and Uncle have been going there every year for—Ai—since Uncle Eldarion was twenty-five. My Grandfather has been going since he took the crown.

This is the trip when we take a break from our duties for just a short month. It is supposed to be a freeing opportunity. A chance to take a break and breathe deeply. It is a time to slow down and revert to our family's Ranger roots. It is supposed to be fun.

But not this year. This year—the first year Dafydd and I have gone—we were attacked by the Slavers.

We have heard of the Slavers in our Shining City. They attack traders and unsuspecting travelers who travel to Harad from Gondor or vice versa and sell them as slaves to the Haradrim Nobles.

We thought them a legend, a tale told to children to scare them into obedience, a story the Haradrim merchants tell to scare the Gondorians away from money. Oh how wrong we were.

Last night we were attacked as we walked through the night. We were as silent as lambs I thought. The horse stepped on a branch now that I think long on it. But that is all I can think of. I remember walking slow and tired when suddenly a hand flew over my mouth. I looked around and Dafydd and Uncle Eldarion were overcome—which is no small feat.

That was last night. They have tied us up—bound and gagged—in their tents.

They have sent Dafydd away. I do not know where for I cannot understand their language. I worry so much about him. He has been my protector. We are a pair. He fights for me and I soothe him. Oh my brother, my twin, what have they done to you?

They keep talking my Uncle as if he were this Aaron ben Q'uso person. They threaten him with my harm if he does not tell them where Q'uso's base is. But of course he cannot tell them. So far they have not hurt me.

I hear my Uncle scream. What new devilry are they doing to him? I shudder. Will they kill him if he does not tell what he does not know? I do not fear for myself. They would not hurt their livelihood. But my uncle is not so lucky.

What will become of me? My Dafydd? My Uncle? What will happen if the three left who carry Gondor's Royal blood are slain or sold as slaves? What will happen to my mother if we never return? Will this be the blow that takes my Grandfather's life? And what will my Grandmother do if her husband leaves her? What will happen to the Kingdom? Will we leave it in a worse position than the one we took it from? May Eru protect us.


	5. Chapter 5

Oh Yeah! I can upload! Here's Chapter 6! Darth Real Life will not stop me from writing this!

Cyber Brownies to whoever catches the Christian Rock reference. And I need a beta.

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Worry

My children are coming home! I can see Arthoniel riding out of Ithilien's forest and up to the Steward's house. Oh thank goodness, I no longer need worry.

Wait, who is the man behind her? Is he Haradric? Where are Dafydd and Eldarion? Why have they not ridden out of the forest yet? I wait a moment longer. They still do not appear.

What has happened to my son? Why has Eldarion chosen to stay with him and let my daughter come home with a stranger? I will wring his neck for this.

I feel worry gnawing at my stomach. My son. My little baby. He would not leave his twin sister unless some great emergency had befallen him. What has happened to my child?

I turn from my window and rush out of my room. I descend the stair case and am out of the house in but a minute. I am the first one out to meet my daughter. I hear footsteps behind me.

Arthoniel rides in through the gates. She rides with the grace and poise of an elf. It does my heart proud to see her as such.

The man rides up behind her. He is Haradric. What is Eldarion thinking letting him come with her?

I hear the door open behind me. Elboron speaks, "Arthoniel, it is good to see you. Where are Dafydd and Eldarion though? And who is this man who rides with you?"

She dismounts from Flyleaf and acknowledges Elboron's family with a nod. To Elboron she says, "Forgive me, my lord, but I must speak with my mother first." She turns to me, "Mother may we go inside?"

"Of course," I tell her. I open the door to the house. She walks up the stairs and I follow her. We are in my room.

She walks to the window and looks out, she smiles, "'Tis good to be home, Mama."

"I imagine," I reply. I walk to her and place my hand on her shoulder. I cup her chin in my other hand and turn her to me, "Arthoniel, where are Dafydd and Eldarion? What has happened to my son? Why have you come home with a strange man?"

She bites her bottom lip. She looks up into my eyes, I see grief and joy. My child what has happened to put such a combination in your beautiful eyes? "You may want to sit down, Mama. 'Tis a long tale."

I sit on my rocking chair. I cannot help the pride in my heart as she strikes a storyteller's pose. She has inherited my talent. She takes a deep breath and starts, "We had been traveling for five day's in the No Man's Land..."


	6. Chapter 6

IT'S UP!!! FINALLY!!!! I'm really sorry it took so long to get this up. It's done now! Good news is that I have the next two chapters written. Pretty please with a cherry on top review. I didn't get any last chapter.

I need a beta

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The Tale Arthoniel Told Her Mother

We had been traveling for five days in the No Man's Land. Nothing much had happened other than setting traps for rabbits and shooting a few dears. Dafydd nearly fell out of a tree he was sleeping in but the only thing hurt was his pride. It was really quite funny.

Then, Then it happened. We had been traveling all day and Dafydd and I were exhausted. It was the middle of the night. Uncle Eldarion seemed to be holding up a bit better than we are. But he is better acquainted to not having any rest. He was rushing us and had been worried the entire time we'd been in the No Man's Land. Perhaps it was foresight, perhaps he was just tired.

I was almost falling asleep on my feet when a hand was thrown over my mouth. I started to scream but the man kicked the back of my knee to silence me. I looked around, Dafydd and Uncle Eldarion were in similar situations at my sides though they had two men holding them instead of merely one.

A man stepped out of the shadows and addressed my Uncle. He said, "So, Aaron ben Kuso, we have finally caught you. Now, tell us where you base is or we shall make your little girl and boy pay for your insolence. Clever idea to dye your hair with wosteb root to hide your blondness."

The man holding Uncle Eldarion loosened his hold on my Uncle's mouth so that he might speak, "Who is this Aaron you speak of? My niece and nephew and I are but poor travelers from the north. I have never heard of Aaron ben Kuso."

The man drew his sword and placed it on Uncle Eldarion's neck, "Liar," he spat. He turned to his men, "Take them to our camp. Make sure that they cannot talk to each other."

The men nodded and forced us forward. We soon had come upon their camp. They bound us and gagged Dafydd and I. They forced Dafydd and I to lie on the ground in a tent. We heard the leader questioning Uncle Eldarion.

He asked him questions about Aaron ben Kuso's base and questions about the rangers. My uncle told them again that he knew not who or where Aaron be Kuso was but that the rangers' lived in Gondor and Arnor in the north.

We heard a slap and the leader responded, "You shall regret your insolence."

That night they came for Dafydd. They untied his feet and forced him up. He fought to stay by my side but they knocked the breath out of him and forced him out of the tent. I was left alone in the tent with my tears. I have not seen him since.

The next day I was brought out to be near Uncle Eldarion during their continued interrogation of him. They sought to move him into compassion for myself. They wished him to fall into the all to common belief—in the North and South—that women are inferior and altogether more delicate beings than men and that it was not right for my young and womanly eyes to see their beating of him. But my Uncle had nothing to tell them save what had already been told to them. I hope I can say that had he had something to tell them that he would have not told them and have not been moved by my presence. I would be shamed to call him my uncle and the Crown Prince were it not so.

They left us tied outside for the night.

I fell asleep leaning on the tree they tied me to. But I was awoken to a touch of a hand on my wrist. A voice whispered in my ear with heavily accented Common, "I'm Broch, a Ranger. We'll get you and your companion out of here. Clench your hand once if you understand, twice if you don't."

I clenched once.

"Just a moment, lady."

It was truly a moment before our captors started noticing that the guards were lessening in number. There was a shout. Seven Haradric men came out of the shadows of the forest and fought with the remaining awake guards. In another moment they had cut Uncle Eldarion and myself free. They helped us up and lead us through the forest.

After we had run for what seemed like hours, our liberators stopped us. One of them stepped out and introduced himself to us in hushed tones, "Sir, my lady, I am Broch. I spoke with my lady just before the rescue. I am the leader of this division of men. We are taking you to our leader and founder, Aaron ben Kuso. H has been absent for a while but when he returns he will help you arrange for your return to your homeland."

Uncle Eldarion nodded, "I am Eldarion. This is my niece Arthoniel. Thank you for your rescue."

Broch shook his head, "Sir, it is no trouble. It is our job and duty. We," he motioned to the men around him, "have been in the same situation ourselves. Very few of our men have never been either taken by the slavers or were born into slavery." He looked around. "Come, if any of the slavers woke they may be following us. Or we may have caught the attention of other slavers."

We ran forever. We stopped at a cliff. Bushes sprouted from the vertical wall. Crags, crooks, and crannies shaped the cliff's face. We stopped at small fissure, about six feet tall and no more than a foot wide. Broch led us in. We sidled through for several minutes, but instead of getting narrower, the crack grew wider. Soon we were walking comfortably two abreast. Again it took forever to get where we were going, it seems to take forever to get anywhere in No Man's Land. But soon we heard the soft notes of a guitar coming through the cave. The men around us seemed to breathe sighs of relief. I heard at least one of them whisper in relieved tones to each other.

Soon we entered a large cavern. At the side were naturally formed rock benches around an open space. Men sat on the seats. They had lit a fire in the space and were roasting meat. One white man sat and played the guitar.

"Aaron," Broch said to the guitar playing man. He then spoke something in Haradric that I will not attempt to mutilate.

Aaron ben Kuso. The man who formed this organization that saved our lives and honor. He looked to be about mid thirties. He had blond hair and blue eyes, the last person you would have expected to form and lead band of Haradric men. He looked up at Broch. He stopped playing guitar as he saw Uncle Eldarion and I. He locked eyes with Uncle Eldarion.

Uncle Eldarion's jaw tightened and he clenched his fists.

Aaron turned to the other men and shouted some orders in just as quick Haradric as Broch's. He set his instrument down and stood up, sighing. He walked to us. He spoke to the men who had brought us.

Broch nodded and the men left.

Aaron spoke to us, "Welcome to the Kani Bet, or Slave's Place. As I'm sure you've guessed, I am Aaron ben Kuso, the founder of the Rangers. I'll have some of my men come and take you to your rooms." He addressed Uncle Eldarion, "We can talk afterwards."

Uncle Eldarion said, "Is it possible for my niece to get some clean clothes that aren't men's?"

Aaron stared at Uncle Eldarion, "Your niece?"

Uncle Eldarion nodded.

He shook his head, "I just assumed she was your daughter." He looked at me. "I…" He sighed and turned back to Uncle Eldarion, "Yes, our company is not made completely out of men. We rescue many women from the slavers. Those who either have nowhere else to go or wish to help those who were in the same situation as they were stay with us." He sighed again and turned to a man and spoke some words.

The man walked up, "Yes, Aaron?"

"Take this man and his niece to some rooms. Send Marillia to the girl's room with some clothes and help her get situated. Get Dandroth to the man's room for the same purpose. Report back to me and tell me what rooms they're in. I wish to speak with them and receive news of my birth country."

The man bowed and led us around the large hole in the center of the room and through a hallway.

My room seemed to be carved out of the rock. It was no larger than twelve cubits by twelve cubits. There was a small bed, or—shall I say—mattress. In the corner was a small washbasin and a chamber pot. The door to the room was a curtain over the door-shaped hole.

After a few moments a woman spoke from the other side of the curtain, "Miss?"

I walked to the door and pulled back the curtain. A small overweight woman no less than forty stood holding some clothes.

She spoke in Broken Common with a large smile on her face, "E'cuse me miss. I bring you clothes. I bring you food soon, no? My name Marillia."

I smiled, "Hello." I took the clothes from her and set them on the bed. "My name is Arthoniel Telcontar."

Her eyes went wide. After a second she spoke, "We call you Tonya, no? We Haradrim, we no like say long names we no know how to say. We call you someting we can say, no? Aaron ben Kuso, his name someting long like you. We call him someting we can say. Aaron ben Kuso, nice and no long," she nodded as she said "nice" and again as she said, "no long."

I smiled, "So I'll introduce myself as Tonya so that the Haradrim can say my name?"

She wrinkled her brow, "I no know 'intoduce'."

I mentally cursed my stupidity for using a harder word, "It means 'when I meet you and tell you my name'."

"Ah," she nodded, "Intoduce. Like, May I intoduce me? My name Mirillia?"

I smiled and laughed, "Yes, exactly like that."

She smiled, "Goodbye, Tonya. I go now and let you put clothes on. Goodbye."

I smiled and nodded, "Goodbye, Mirillia. I hope I'll see you later."

She nodded while still smiling and left the room.

I sighed, I liked her. She was a happy woman. She no doubt had gone through much in her life. She had probably been enslaved at one part of her life, or at least on her way to being enslaved.

I turned to the clothes. There was a long tan tunic, knee length, a pair of brown pants, a pair of moccasins for foot wear, a belt with a pouch of some healing herbs and a needle and thread, and a ribbon to tie my hair up with. My own ribbon had fallen out during our run. I'm still wearing the clothes now.

There was a pail of fresh water by the washbasin and I poured some into it. I splashed it on my face. Oh, it felt so good. There was a bar of soap sitting on a shelf above my head. I took it and washed my face. The weeks' worth of grime came off. Oh, it felt so good. Next I cleaned my hands. I didn't have enough water to wash my body, a big enough washbasin, nor certain privacy, or I certainly would have.

There was a knock at my door.

I stood up, "Come in."

Aaron ben Kuso walked in. He took a deep breath, "My lady, I need to speak with you, privately. Can you come with me to my room?"

I nodded…


	7. Chapter 7

Hey! It's up! Please review and tell me what you think.

Without further ado,

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Dignity

They're pushing me slowly forward. I hear them grumbling and feel their yells in my ears. They're angry with my dignity. They try to beat me into submission without physically marring me. They're having a difficult time. I am young and strong. They are weak and—judging from the amount of ribs I can count—they are starved.

I just wish I knew what they have in store.

I know they are slavers. But surely if they were going to sell me surely they would sell all of us? Or at least Arthoniel and not me? One would think that they would have more buyers for a pretty young female than a young man?

Not that I'm upset that they're selling me and not Arthoniel—If they are selling me.

I tell you I would hurt them faster than they can say, "May Sauron rise," if they threatened to touch her. I love my sister more than life. She is my twin. We always understand each other. People say that twins can communicate telepathically with each other. We cannot. But it is twins like us that make people think that.

I'm overjoyed that they've chosen to sell me and not her if that is truly what they plan.

But surely that's the only thing that makes sense.

I feel terror, horror, and outrage grip my heart. They are going to sell me! Me. The future king of Gondor! How dare they! They intend to make me—Me!—a submissive, dutiful slave! Well I tell you I am full of Duty…To my country!

I look around quickly. There are only ten of them. Surely I can take them. My hands are tied in front of me but I have my feet. I swing my fists into the closest man's jaw. He screams. I kick a man in the groin and head but another man. Several grab my shoulders and try to pull me down. But they are weak! I swing my arms over my head and hit one of them on what feels like the bridge of the nose. I hear a crack.

I glance around. The men are getting over their shock. I swing my fists into one more man's solar plexus and run.

I get farther and farther away from them. The trees are flying by fast. Not as fast as I could with my hands untied and proper balance restored though. I jump over a fallen log. I splash through a creek. In the corner of my eye I see animals running. I can hear the squirrels chattering and the birds chirping their annoyance with me. In the back of my mind I can hear the hunt fading in the background. I can smell the freedom.

Pain shoots through my shoulder. I bite back a scream. They shot me! I catch my balance on a tree with my hands and try to look at it. It's deep. Someone's a good shot.

I could let them take me. They might heal me so they can sell me. But they might consider me too dangerous to let live. No. My only choice is to run and hope I find someone friendly.

I hear them gaining on me. I take a deep breath, clench my teeth and set off on a slow run.

With each step my shoulder hurts more. I never knew how much one moves one's arms while one runs, especially when one is running with one's arms tied together.

I don't hear them any more. Maybe I've succeeded.

I fall down. I pull my arms under me and try not to scream. Oh this hurts. I don't know how I'll get up, how I'll go on.

I remember the tales of Boromir and how he continued to fight after he was implanted with three arrows in him. But I am not Boromir. Boromir was not running for thirty minutes total, and ten of those minutes spent with an arrow in his shoulder blade. Also, He had spent years experiencing battle wounds and was much more used to puncture wounds than I am.

I can withstand broken arms, black eyes, bruises that look like a troll sat on me, whatever you throw at me that one would get in an ordinary fist fight, but I have not much experience with wounds from sharp objects.

I take a deep breath. I need to get a hold of myself. I need to get up and start running.

I pull my face out of the dirt and look up. Two sets of boots greet my face.

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I'm pretty sure this is the last you'll here from Dafydd for a long time, so enjoy it.

You know where the blue button is :)


	8. Chapter 8

Our best

I stand and watch the man they call Aaron ben Kuso lead his men efficiently and with authority. He's grown up since I last saw him. When he left he was a boy, barely married and an uncontrollable flow of emotions. Now, I know he's suffering from confusion and fear, and yet even I cannot see it. True, I have not seen him for twenty five years, but I know the face of his children and parents well enough that I think I should be able to tell if anyone can. Besides, I was the one who held onto him during that thunderstorm when we were lost as boys. I was the one who saw the terror. I know him. I will always know him even if I never see him again.

He has assembled a division of twelve men led by a man named Cymba to search for Dafydd. Broch's men found a group of slavers a week ago that said that they had captured a young white man. But the man escaped. They did not catch him nor find his dead body, for they shot him.

His face went white then, when Broch told him that. I spoke with him later, he was terrified that so soon after he had learned of Dafydd's existence, he would lose him. I never imagined he could be so scared, nor that I could feel for him so after what he did to us. Mother would, Father probably would, but I never knew if I would forgive him. I know now.

He looks at me, and for a moment, I see him terrified. It is the face he had when calling for me after a nightmare. It is the face he had when he looked at me after the wargs took his little spaniel. It is the face that says "Tor-nin, make it go away. Make the bad dream stop." I can do nothing.

I sigh and shrug my shoulders.

He walks to me, "What do I do?" I hear the desperation cracking in his voice.

I look at the men he has assembled, this organization that he has created and cared for for over twenty years. I look at his face, "The man who can form a union of so many former slaves, a man who can take oppressed and dejected people who think them-selves useless and give them self esteem and teach them to fight, surely he can find one white man."

He stares at his feet, "That man is not in control today. Today I am a man who fears to lose a treasure that he has had for many years, but never knew of its existence until it was too late." He looks into my eyes, "I fear that if we find him they will have ruined him into something his sister and mother will find horrifying. I fear that they will have broken him."

I shake my head, "I cannot promise you that these things will not come to pass." I smile and grip his shoulder, "But I can promise you that I will die trying to prevent it. You, your men, I, we will all do our best to bring Dafydd home safe."

He stares out across the cavern, "Sometimes, even our best cannot stop the things we fear most. Do you know how hard it is to find a particular person once they have been sold? Yes you can try, you can give your life trying. But unless I know to whom and where a person has been sold to can I free them."

I sigh, "Sometimes, we know that we will die in the attempt to take the Gate. Sometimes, we know it is futile, impossible to walk through the Black Entrance. But we have to keep pressing on, hoping that our friends will survive, praying that our best is good enough. Sometimes, our best cannot stop the things we fear the most. But at least history will not say we didn't try."

He shakes his head and looks in my eyes, "How could I have been so foolish. How could I have thought that I would do better?" He turns to the cavern, "Why was I such an idiot?"

"You were young, you were manipulated by those you cared about. I cannot say that you were right, that you should not have had sense. But I can say that you are forgiven by many in the Royal family, including myself."

He nods, "Thank you. But the regret and the guilt is something I must deal with for the rest of my life." He sighs and leaves our place by the wall. The mask is on again and he is the leader he was born to be. He shouts orders right and left in the language I cannot hope to comprehend.

What can I do? I cannot kill the wargs, or drive away the thunderstorm. I cannot even promise that we will find Dafydd alive. I can stave off the despair, keep away the guilt, and pray that our best is good enough.

Long live the line of Telcontar.

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If you can't guess who Aaron is after this, well, I'll take away your cyber brownies or something. Please press the pretty blue button in the right corner! 


	9. Chapter 9

Hope

My son is alive. My son, my littlest baby, he's alive, alive and well. I read the letter from Eruanna. She says that they found him. Arthoniel and Eldarion, they found him. And he's saving people. He's a good man. He and Eldarion are at peace. Oh praise be to Ilúvatar. Thanks be to Ilúvatar. Thank you.

Maybe I did something right by him. Mayhap I did something to turn him out right.

Oh, Ilúvatar, thank you that my baby is safe. Thank you for keeping him safe. Oh, the joy in my heart at this moment. Oh, the peace and satisfaction. Thank you. Thank you. Oh, my child. The baby I carried in my womb. The child I watched grew into a boy. Now he has become a man. I missed it. I know…I know that it was necessary. I know that he became a man while and because he left the Shining City, but that does not make the ache go away that I did not see it. But he is mature, my baby is grown.

Oh Ilúvatar, bring me my baby home safe. Protect my baby's child. Keep grandbaby safe. Keep my baby safe.

Protect him from harm, and guide his thoughts. Deliver him from evil, and delay his faults. Save him from misgivings and lead him through good. Hold him so close that temptation flees. And give him good fortune throughout all his day.

Oh Eru, keep him safe

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Sorry it's short. Next one is longer. Sorry it took so long to update, I wanted to get the next chapter finished before I posted this. 


	10. Chapter 10

_Huh...I thought I posted this last week. Sorry. Everything from here down is stuff I wrote last week when I intended to post._

I went back and changed some of the stuff in Chapter 3. Originally it said that Anarion and Eruanna met when she was eighteen and he twenty. I changed it so that she was eighteen and he was thirty. He is half Dunadan (sp?) and half Elf after all so I'm figuring on him probably living 200 years like his dad. I also changed in Chapter 2 when Arwen says that 49 years ago she bore her second son (Anarion) I changed that to 59 years.

I also changed it so that Eldarion's wife is not Abigalia but Theodwyn. I'm saving Abigalia for a different story that may or may not ever get written.

Growing Up

We are sitting down at the table for supper. Aman—or whatever that Haradrim's name is—is on Arthoniel's right. I know it's predjudice, but I don't like him. His kind fought for Sauron all those years ago. I know it's not right to judge him for his ancestor's actions, but I cannot help it. Why has he stayed this long anyways? I know that Arthoniel and he are friends but is that a reason for him to stay this long? I do not like it.

Arthoniel and I plan on leaving for Minas Tirith tomorrow to be with the King and Queen. It has been two months since Arthoniel has seen them, and over a month since I have seen them. To tell the truth, I miss them. The Queen has become as a mother to me in the years that I have been her daughter-in-law. And the King has helped me raise my children. I miss Theodwyn as well. She is the sister I have never had. She babysat my children when they were babies on times too numerous to count. She and Eldarion never had children, I know they both wish they had. But they love mine as their own. I know that is why Eldarion has stayed with Anarion.

The supper is served. Roast pig with several different kinds of roots and vegetables. We finish filling our plate and Arthoniel speaks, "Mother," she takes a deep breath, "Mother, I do not intend to go to Minas Tirith with you."

Who is this woman and what has she done with my baby? Where is the shy child who rarely speaks that I have loved since she was in my womb? Where is the innocent baby that Dafydd must always defend? Since when does she defy my wishes? Since when does she speak with such authority? She is a woman. I collect my thoughts, "You cannot intrude on your cousin's hospitality much longer." Before Elboron can interrupt I say to him, "I know that you would be perfectly willing for us to stay in your house for ever but it still is not kind on our part."

Arthoniel says, "Mother, I…" she bights her lip, "I intend to go back to Harad to help find my brother and get to know my Father."

I look at her and shake my head. _No, no, no, no, no._ "It is too dangerous. What if you are taken? What would I do then? You would be a burden to your Uncle and your Father. I will not have it. I need you. I need my child. I cannot lose you both." What would I do if I lost them? They are my life, the reason I live. My babies. I've lost one already, I may never see him again…

She sighs, "Mother, I cannot sit here useless. I need to do something. I miss Dafydd just as much as you do, mother. I cannot just do nothing. And you will have Grandmama and Grandfather. You will have to comfort Theodwyn as well. You will be busy. I will come back in three months if we have not found him by then and tell you what progress we have made.

"And mother, have you not always said that you wish I could know my father. I must go if I am to know him. He is still banished even if we have found him. The only time I can see him is if I go to Harad. He is not even in Harad, but the No Man's Land. Mother, I want to know my father. I need to know him. Have you not always said I need a father? Mother, I want my father. Please let me go and get to know my father. Please, Mother."

I look at my hands, she makes a reasonable argument, but, but she is my daughter. I cannot lose her too. I look up, "What if something happens to you?"

Aman says in broken Common, "Ma'am, Tonya be safe. I go wit her. I take care off her. I know ta No Man Lan. I know where is bad to go. I take care off her."

I sigh, "Your offer is very kind but…"

Eldarion pushes his white hair out of his eyes and says, "Eruanna, I believe that Aman knows the No Man's Land better than King Elessar. Letting Arthoniel go would give her something to do during the weeks that it takes Anarion and Eldarion to find Dafydd. If it would comfort you I could send my cousin, Cedric, with her and Aman."

I look at Cedric. He nods and says, "Yes, I'd be glad to go with Arthoniel. I'm sure that my parents won't mind. I'm a grown man and not the heir to the throne. My grandfather, King Éomer, and my father, Éomund, have taught me well with the sword. I expect that Aman has some experience with weaponry. Between the two of us, I doubt that any harm will come to your daughter."

I take a deep breath, "It seems that I am out numbered."

I see Arthoniel take a deep breath, the nervous look reminds me that she is still my daughter. But it's not just pure fear, it's tentative hope. How can I disappoint her after all she's been through? She's a grown woman, under the law she does not need my blessing or permission to do as she wishes, and yet she still asks me.

I nod slowly, "You have my permission and my blessing."

Her face lights up into a smile. I would die to see that smile more often.

Oh Eru Ilúvatar, do not let me loose two children.

I have Eruanna call Eldarion her cousin even though he's her father's cousin and Eldarion call Cedric his cousin even though Cedric is his cousin's son under the general term of cousin. It would sound too akward for them to go into detail about their relationships in midsentance.


	11. Chapter 11

More Eldarion. Arthoniel is next, unless I change something.

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Staving off Despair

I sigh and sit on the chair in my brother's room. I rub my hands and watch some of the dirt fall off into my lap. I rub my hand in my hair. I swear you could fry a fish in my hair. I look up at my brother.

His eyes are bloodshot and he leans on the wall. He shakes his head and looks at me, "He's been sold now, almost certainly. It'll be nigh impossible to find him. It's been a month and a half. A month and a half. If he as any sense of dignity and pride he could get himself killed. They…They'll beat his pride out of him. If he's stubborn, they might beat him to…to death." He puts his head in his hands, "My son."

My little brother, how much you've gone through and put us through. Do even you deserve this despair? My little dear brother. I wish I could comfort you someway. I wish I knew how. But I've never done this before. I don't know how.

Oh my brother, throughout all our escapades, adventures, and near-death experiences, I've been the one that protects you. I've been the one to hold you close and tell you the storm will go away, that everything will get better. My brother, we're in the adult world now, we're grown men. Things don't always get better in the adult world. We don't always have a Frodo to destroy the Ring and make the Sauron go away. I'm not all powerful. I can't do anything. I'm helpless here. Helpless.

He looks up into my eyes and I see the terror that he hides from the rest of the world. I can see the unasked request, "Make it all go away. Make me wake up from this nightmare." But what can I do? I'm not a Maia.

He rests his head in his hands, "'There's a light at the end of the tunnel,' that's what they say, don't they? 'Things always get better.' 'Don't let this keep you down.' 'This world will never keep you down.' 'Rise up.' 'This is nothing.' 'Chin up.'" He stands up and looks at me, "Have those damned bastards never had any pain in their life?"

I shake my head, "I don't know, Anarion, I don't know."

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A/N: Pressing that little blue button in the left corner is much apreciated.

A/N2: I recently re-read some of this, and unfortunately many of the author's notes are a bit confusing. I'll fix that if I get over my laziness. If any of them confuse me please pm or review and I'll answer as best I can.


	12. Chapter 12

Oh my gosh I'm so sorry. I've been meaning to put this up for at least a month now but it's been on our slow computer, and I'm lazy. I'm very, very sorry.

* * *

Too Long

It's been five years. Five years since I've seen my twin brother, once so necessary to me, now I've learned to stand on my own feet. I've learned to survive without his protecting arms around me saving me from detestable situations. And honestly, I do not know if I could have done that if he had never been taken from us, if he had been here for these five years.

I look up from my stitching and over at my husband, Cedric. We are visiting my mother, today is the anniversary of Dafydd's enslavement. Cedric is reading a book on the legends of Middle Earth's creation. He looks up at me and smiles, "Are you alright?"

I shrug and nod. What else am I to say? That I have given up hope? That it has been five years and we will never find him? That I wish my uncle and father would stop and just admit that we will never see the face of Gondor's heir again? That as much as I don't want it that someday I will bear the crown of my fathers? That one day I will be Tar-Arthoniel? I do not want this. I want my brother back. But I will never see his face again. He is gone forever. I hope he knows it and has not wasted his breath on trying to escape from cruel and ruthless guards. I hope he is still alive. I hope he's found some happiness, even if his situation is not one to be desired. I bend my head to hide my tears from my husband.

He walks over and rubs my back, "We'll find him. He'll come home to us eventually."

I cannot stop the shaking of my head and my trembling voice, "No. No we won't. I love my brother so much. But I cannot help but wonder, even if we beat the chances, and we found him, would he be my brother? Or would he be a broken mess that breaks our heart every time we see him. Will I know him who I once knew better than myself? We were twins. It was often that we seemed to read each other's mind. Just from a glance or a slight frown, I could tell if he was pleased or distressed, and what about. I want my brother."

He leans in and kisses my tears away, "We'll go home soon and the memory of him will not be so blatant. The plains of Rohan will not remind you of him as much as the forests of Ithillien."

"But what about my mother?"

"Your grandmother, aunt, and grandfather will be with her. And someday, for all of us, this pain will not be as throbbing as it is now. Perhaps we'll name our daughter's first brother after him," I see him glance at our baby in her cradle.

I stand up and walk over to her. I brush the fine baby hair out of her face. My Maegden, my daughter. Will you ever meet your uncle? Or will Gondor have two lady Queens after it's king, Tar-Eldarion?

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A/n: Once again, very,very sorry. I'd even understand if you don't review, though, I'd really rather you do. 


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